


Soushisouai

by MythosMeta



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:16:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythosMeta/pseuds/MythosMeta
Summary: sakyomi. akebono-so. stream hungry neighbors. lets get itspoilers for act 2 and all the autumn play events
Relationships: Furuichi Sakyou/Fushimi Omi, Klaus/Riku, rikukura
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Soushisouai

It all started leading up to the reruns of Akebono-so. Okay, probably before that. A few months, give or take. _Maybe_ a year. Or more. 

It’d been going on for a while. 

Omi fiddles with the ring light, still not satisfied with something about the setup. Giving up on figuring it out perfectly, he hits Record on the camera, marches away, and settles on the barstool. 

“Autumn Troupe testimonial. Fifth of March. Subject… you know.” He sighs, and immediately makes a mental note to cut the sigh. The red light blinks at him. He inhales again.

“I used to think I couldn’t be myself around him. That was because he reminded me of the life I used to have.” He pauses, trying to shrug off the nerves of having just admitted that. _Apparently, I can’t even be myself in an empty garage. This is why we're doing this._ “Since playing Wolf, I realised that history—it’s not a wall between us. Well, it started out that way, but when I knocked it over, it became a bridge. A precious connection I have to Sakyo-san, who’s so reserved. I wish I was better at crossing it.”

He focuses on something offscreen and squares his shoulders. “I never want you to feel like you should run or hide anything about yourself from me. Keep all the secrets you want, sure, just—let me be there for you when you need me.” His brave posture suddenly deflates like the oversized blow-up punching bag he takes himself for. 

“I’m kind of glad I’m not strong enough to say something so hypocritical.”

* * *

Omi tucks the tape, old school and physical—it just seemed right, safely in his inner coat pocket. While hauling the last of the equipment back to his room, conversation from the entryway snags his attention with a few familiar names. 

“Tsuzuru,” Azuma says in that amused tone, “you're a sharp one when it comes to tropes. Won’t you come to my aid, almighty author?”

“Yukishiro-san, please don’t involve me in weird disputes.”

“Come, now. Regardless of your stance on the term itself, surely you agree that Klaus is Riku's manic pixie dream girl.”

Omi freezes one step out of view. He hefts the tripod under his arm, wavering, before resigning himself to getting completely involved and putting it up later. He makes his way into the living room and leans his luggage against the couch’s arm. 

“Ah,” Azuma greets him. “Welcome home, Omi.”

“Welcome home,” he dutifully answers. “I never actually left, though.”

Azuma tilts his head and hums questioningly. 

“I overheard just now,” he forges ahead. “You were talking about our show?”

For once, Azuma’s giggling puts Omi on edge. “Sakyo-kun was so cute in that role, I couldn’t help but overthink it. You get it, right?”

Caught unawares, Omi has no defense but to laugh in what he hopes is the most normal way possible. He’s absurdly thankful for Tsuzuru’s unwitting rescue.

“Speaking of,” Tsuzuru grouses, _“Klaus_ has his own motivation. He guards his kingdom and only stays with Riku at first because he’s hungry.”

Azuma shakes his head. “Certainly it’s mentioned in the fiction. But in practice, the battle in Klaus’s world, where he’s rescued might I add, and coming home to Riku in the end were all to serve Riku’s growth and happiness. Am I wrong?”

“I feel kind of obligated to defend Klaus here, so if I could present my take?” Omi looks between the two of them, who gesture him on. “I think Klaus’s own happiness shouldn’t be understated. Sakyo-san played him with a unique subtlety at times, given the type of oddball character he is, but from where I was standing, I could feel the joy he projected at our reunion. He says that he loves Riku’s cooking, and he does, but there’s more to it than that—more reason for him to care for Riku in return than might be showing on the surface.” He seems to come back to himself and stops there. “Is what I want to believe.”

Tsuzuru rubs at the back of his neck, distracted. “So the mutual nature of their relationship is still a main pillar of keeping the play from falling flat, although you propose there isn’t too much of it made apparent…” 

Musing along with him, none of them hear the door open and shut. 

“What are you all standing in the middle of the room for?”

“Sakyo-san!” Omi just about jumps out of his skin, his hand instinctively reaching for his heart. The tips of his fingers bump into the tape. “You snuck up on us. Welcome home.” 

Azuma leisurely waves and steers Tsuzuru over to the couch. “I guess we got carried away.”

Sakyo only ever so slightly raises an eyebrow at Omi, who heads for the kitchen out of habit. He opens the fridge without seeing anything in it. “What do you want for dinner?”

Sakyo examines him for a moment longer, then shrugs, taking a seat at the bar. “Whatever we’ve got.”

Omi mindlessly rummages through the various leftovers from today. At Tsuzuru’s gasp, he nearly knocks his head on the freezer door.

“I’ve got it! _Return_ to Akebono-so.”

Everyone takes a minute to absorb this. Having the context is probably the one reason Omi recovers first. “You want to change the script?”

“Not by a lot. It’d just been bugging me that “Welcome” didn’t get around to exploring how the portal works or why it's in that fridge, plus your perspective got me thinking about other stuff to add, too.” In the absence of the Director, he looks to Sakyo for approval. “How about it? Could I do a revised version for the rerun? Actually, not revised since there was nothing really wrong with the first one. Call it a—second episode.”

Sakyo rests his chin on his palm and closes his eyes in thought. “We’re at the level where we can experiment with how we do extra shows without much risk. If you think you can manage it… sounds intriguing.”

Tsuzuru nods, determined. “It won’t take me as long as working ground-up. I’ll have the first draft in a week.”

* * *

Ad-libbing isn't just about dialogue. Sakyo’s even more open, boisterous Klaus calls for some extra hijinks. Sakyo plays it for laughs, of course he does, it’s a comedy. In part.

And Omi is so fucked. In whole.

Klaus’s first new appearance has him laying at the bottom of the fridge, folded up in the box haphazardly like stowed cardboard. Riku opens the door, like he’s supposed to. Klaus smiles up at him, wide and unabashed, unscripted.

“Hi,” Riku welcomes, grasping his arm to help him up. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Anything.”

“Not this again. I told you I want to make what you like.”

Klaus doesn’t answer, patting down his pockets. Eventually, he drops a small brown coinpurse on the counter. “To pay you back.”

Riku shakes his head in exasperation. “Klaus, we don't use the same currency.”

He tilts his head. “Then how shall I make amends?”

Something unsavory slinks around the back of Riku's mind. He takes a mental fly swatter to the idea. _Absolutely not what he meant. Klaus is too literal to understand._ Riku admires his wide-eyed examination of the changes to the kitchen. _He probably doesn't even know what that stuff is._

* * *

Omi wakes with a start. He shuffles himself up against the wall he uses for a headboard, breathing deeply. That makes the third dream replaying scenes from the dress rehearsal in as many days.

It’s not like they’re nightmares. He isn’t frightened by being pulled into the mind of his character, but it is… a touch disturbing, considering the direction of his thoughts. Riku’s thoughts, that is. Omi readily disagrees with him. Klaus is an adult who lives with his fellow warriors. He probably does know. Not that it’s any of his business. 

… What a character that his _older friend_ plays does in his non-existent personal life. Ugh.

Omi rubs his eyes and forces himself back to reality, relieved to see that Taichi is currently out. He climbs down the ladder, changes into his practice clothes, and tries to focus on planning breakfast on the way.

**Author's Note:**

> i have never asked any of you for anything but if you're out there waiting to make sakyomi nsfw.... pls someone has to and it can't be me


End file.
